


Pointing Northward

by Claire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: All the adults went to high school together, M/M, Spin the Bottle, Teenage!Chris, teenage!Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:36:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1568039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire/pseuds/Claire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Spin the Bottle is played and it's all Stilinski's fault</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pointing Northward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arabwel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arabwel/gifts).



> Beta'ed by Temaris.
> 
> Written for screaming-towards-apotheosis' comment on Tumblr of: _teen!Petopher play spin the bottle. needs to happen. someone please do this? :D_

It was all Stilinski's fault, Chris thought, as he stumbled through the door into his bedroom, dropping his bag to the floor as he tugged at his belt. If John hadn't been thinking with his dick, then he wouldn't have been so fucking eager to agree that all of them would play that stupid game after Jules had put the idea into Claudia's head. Or maybe they could have dragged Whittemore into it, since Jules was dating that douchebag.

Slumping against the door as he finally got his belt open, Chris yanked open the buttons on his jeans. Sliding his hand inside, he wrapped his fingers around his dick, groaning in relief. He'd been half hard since that game, since that _kiss_ , and he couldn't exactly sneak away into Jules' bathroom to jerk off. Not when the look Claudia had given him after he pulled away from Peter told him she'd known exactly what he was thinking. (Which had been mainly wondering if he could get away with dragging Peter into the nearest bedroom and fucking him through the mattress. Wondering if he could wipe the amused smirk off Peter's lips by feeding him Chris' cock.)

It's not like it hadn't started off okay. John had kissed Jules on the cheek. Jules had kissed Peter very much _not_ on the cheek. (And Chris wasn't ashamed to admit that the sight had caused something ugly and possessive to flare inside him, had caused him to want to pull Jules away and declare Peter as his. The glance Jules had thrown in his direction when she'd finished let Chris know that it apparently wasn't just Claudia who knew how Chris felt about Peter. In fact, Chris was starting to think that the only one who was unaware of how he felt about Peter was Peter.)

Peter had kissed Mel, Mel had kissed Claudia (and that was a mental image that was going to get pulled out next time his brain wasn't totally focused on _PeterPeterPeter_ ), Claudia had kissed Chris, and then Chris had spun that goddamn bottle.

And of all the people for it to land on, of everyone sitting in that damn circle, it had to land on Peter Hale. Peter, with his wide blue eyes, and his mouth that curled up at the corners, like he knew some kind of amusing secret he had no plans to let you in on. Peter, with his tight jeans, and his habit of running his fingers through his hair so it looked like he'd just rolled out of bed. Peter, who had held a hand out to Chris the first day he walked into Beacon Hills high and had been dragging him along in his wake ever since.

"Well, Chris?" Jules' voice had been light, a teasing undertone running through it. "Not going to forfeit are you?"

Considering the last forfeit Jules had been involved in handing out had seen John streaking ass naked through the school hall during fifth period, Chris hadn't been planning on it. But that had been before the beer bottle between them had come to a slow stop, pointing at Peter.

"Come on, Argent. Surely the thought of kissing me isn't that bad." Peter's tone was as light as Jules', but there'd been something more underneath the words. Something halting and hesitant that had made Chris surge forward.

There was a small noise of surprise as Chris' lips pressed against Peter's, like Peter hadn't expected Chris to actually kiss him. His hands came up to cup Peter's face, his thumb rubbing over Peter's cheek as his tongue darted out to lap at Peter's lower lip.

Peter tasted of heat and spice and a faint tang of chemical strawberry that Chris knew belonged to the lipgloss Mel liked to wear.

There was a moan, low and guttural and Peter's lips opened under his. And all Chris wanted to do was to push forward, to press Peter back until he was laid out under Chris, eager and wanting. But he couldn't, not in the middle of Jules' lounge, surrounded by their friends.

Chris pulled back, unable to stop the smile from crossing his lips when Peter's body swayed towards him for a brief moment, like it was chasing Chris' touch.

"So," Claudia commented, glancing between the two of them, "definitely not forfeiting, then."

Peter smirked as he glanced at her, before standing, not bothering to hide the fact that he was straining behind his jeans.

Chris swallowed his own smirk as he looked at him. He'd done that, had Peter Hale hard and wanting, by just kissing him.

"We're leaving," Peter announced, holding a hand out to Chris and pulling him to his feet.

Chris barely had time to grab his bag off the floor, and his jacket from where he'd left it over the back of the sofa when they'd got to Jules', before Peter's throwing a _goodbye--_ at their friends and all but dragging Chris out of the door and towards his truck.

Chris hadn't even closed the driver's side door before Peter was in his lap, straddling Chris' legs and pressing his hands against Chris' chest.

"So, we're on the same page here, yes?" Peter asked. "Me, you, together, naked."

Chris nodded, his hands moving to cup Peter's ass and pull him closer. "Absolutely on the same page," he replied. Hell, they were on the same word on the same sentence, and Chris was sure that there's at least one condom still in the glove box, and he'll go back into Jules' and steal that ridiculously expensive hand lotion Whittemore had bought her for her birthday if they need anything to--

Peter's hand slapping against Chris' arm cut the thought off. "I'm not fucking you in the back of your truck, Chris. I do have some standards."

Chris was pretty sure he didn't manage to stop the disappointed look from crossing his face, but Peter just grinned and leaned forward, nipping quickly at Chris' lower lip with his teeth.

"Talia and Michael are taking the kids away for the weekend on Friday." Peter raised a hand to his brow dramatically. "Oh, Christopher, whatever will I do in that big house, all alone, for two whole days?"

"When are they leaving?" Chris could work with that. He could tell his mom that he was staying with John, that they had a project to work on. Gerard would probably complain, but his mom liked John, and he still owed Chris for covering for him when he spent the night with Claudia last month.

"They'll be gone by four," Peter replied, his hands slowly moving down Chris' chest to carefully press against the hardness behind his jeans.

"I'll be there by six." Chris wrapped his fingers around Peter's wrist, pulling his hand away from Chris' crotch. "And don't tease, Peter, it's not nice." Mainly because if Peter kept teasing, Chris was more and more likely just to come right in his pants.

"Surely it's not teasing if you know I'm a guaranteed thing."

" _Peter--_ " Because now that he knew they'd have two whole days together and alone, Chris was willing to wait. Especially if it meant he got Peter spread out under him, needy and begging.

"Oh, fine then." Pressing a quick kiss to Chris' mouth, Peter pulled away, settling himself back into the passenger seat. "But you're driving me home. I've no desire to run back through the Preserve in this state." He motioned to his crotch, where his jeans were just as strained as Chris'.

The drive back to the Hale house was quick enough at that time of night, comfortable silence interspersed with comments from Peter about exactly what he wanted to do to Chris when he got him alone that weekend.

Once Peter had been dropped off, Chris floored the truck getting back to his. His cock throbbed with each mile until he was haphazardly parked outside the house and going from truck to house to bedroom as quickly as he could.

His back against the door, Chris jerked his cock roughly, thoughts of Peter running through his head. Peter on his knees, Peter sucking his cock, Peter's face as Chris slides inside him for the first time. And it's that last one that did it. The image of Peter, head thrown back and throat bared as Chris opened him up, that had Chris coming, muffling a groan into his arm as he spilled over his fingers.

Wiping his fingers on his t-shirt (it needed washing anyway), Chris laughed. Yeah, this was definitely all Stilinski's fault. Chris would have to thank him next time he saw him.


End file.
